CHAPTER V
If any reader, big or little, should wonder whether there is a meaningin this story deeper than that of an ordinary fairy tale, I will ownthat there is. But I have hidden it so carefully that the smallerpeople, and many larger folk, will never find it out, and meantime thebook may be read straight on, like "Cinderella," or "Blue-Beard," or"Hop-o'my-Thumb," for what interest it has, or what amusement it maybring.
Having said this, I return to Prince Dolor, that little lame boy whommany may think so exceedingly to be pitied. But if you had seen him ashe sat patiently untying his wonderful cloak, which was done up ina very tight and perplexing parcel, using skillfully his deft littlehands, and knitting his brows with firm determination, while his eyesglistened with pleasure and energy and eager anticipation--if you hadbeheld him thus, you might have changed your opinion.
When we see people suffering or unfortunate, we feel very sorry forthem; but when we see them bravely bearing their sufferings and makingthe best of their misfortunes, it is quite a different feeling. Werespect, we admire them. One can respect and admire even a little child.
When Prince Dolor had patiently untied all the knots, a remarkable thinghappened. The cloak began to undo itself. Slowly unfolding, it laiditself down on the carpet, as flat as if it had been ironed; the splitjoined with a little sharp crick-crack, and the rim turned up all roundtill it was breast-high; for meantime the cloak had grown and grown, andbecome quite large enough for one person to sit in it as comfortable asif in a boat.
The Prince watched it rather anxiously; it was such an extraordinary,not to say a frightening, thing. However, he was no coward, but athorough boy, who, if he had been like other boys, would doubtless havegrown up daring and adventurous--a soldier, a sailor, or the like. Asit was, he could only show his courage morally, not physically, by beingafraid of nothing, and by doing boldly all that it was in his narrowpowers to do. And I am not sure but that in this way he showed more realvalor than if he had had six pairs of proper legs.
He said to himself: "What a goose I am! As if my dear godmother wouldever have given me anything to hurt me. Here goes!"
So, with one of his active leaps, he sprang right into the middle of thecloak, where he squatted down, wrapping his arms tight round his knees,for they shook a little and his heart beat fast. But there he sat,steady and silent, waiting for what might happen next.
Nothing did happen, and he began to think nothing would, and to feelrather disappointed, when he recollected the words he had been told torepeat--"Abracadabra, dum dum dum!"
He repeated them, laughing all the while, they seemed such nonsense. Andthen--and then----
Now I don't expect anybody to believe what I am going to relate, thougha good many wise people have believed a good many sillier things. And asseeing's believing, and I never saw it, I cannot be expected implicitlyto believe it myself, except in a sort of a way; and yet there is truthin it--for some people.
The cloak rose, slowly and steadily, at first only a few inches, thengradually higher and higher, till it nearly touched the skylight. PrinceDolor's head actually bumped against the glass, or would have done sohad he not crouched down, crying "Oh, please don't hurt me!" in a mostmelancholy voice.
Then he suddenly remembered his godmother's express command--"Open theskylight!"
Regaining his courage at once, without a moment's delay he lifted uphis head and began searching for the bolt--the cloak meanwhile remainingperfectly still, balanced in the air. But the minute the window wasopened, out it sailed--right out into the clear, fresh air, with nothingbetween it and the cloudless blue.
Prince Dolor had never felt any such delicious sensation before. I canunderstand it. Cannot you? Did you never think, in watching the rooksgoing home singly or in pairs, soaring their way across the calm eveningsky till they vanish like black dots in the misty gray, how pleasant itmust feel to be up there, quite out of the noise and din of the world,able to hear and see everything down below, yet troubled by nothing andteased by no one--all alone, but perfectly content?
Something like this was the happiness of the little lame Prince when hegot out of Hopeless Tower, and found himself for the first time in thepure open air, with the sky above him and the earth below.
True, there was nothing but earth and sky; no houses, no trees, norivers, mountains, seas--not a beast on the ground, or a bird in theair. But to him even the level plain looked beautiful; and then therewas the glorious arch of the sky, with a little young moon sitting inthe west like a baby queen. And the evening breeze was so sweet andfresh--it kissed him like his godmother's kisses; and by and by a fewstars came out--first two or three, and then quantities--quantities! sothat when he began to count them he was utterly bewildered.
By this time, however, the cool breeze had become cold; the mistgathered; and as he had, as he said, no outdoor clothes, poor PrinceDolor was not very comfortable. The dews fell damp on his curls--hebegan to shiver.
"Perhaps I had better go home," thought he.
But how? For in his excitement the other words which his godmotherhad told him to use had slipped his memory. They were only a littledifferent from the first, but in that slight difference all theimportance lay. As he repeated his "Abracadabra," trying ever somany other syllables after it, the cloak only went faster and faster,skimming on through the dusky, empty air.
The poor little Prince began to feel frightened. What if his wonderfultraveling-cloak should keep on thus traveling, perhaps to the world'send, carrying with it a poor, tired, hungry boy, who, after all, wasbeginning to think there was something very pleasant in supper and bed!
"Dear godmother," he cried pitifully, "do help me! Tell me just thisonce and I'll never forget again."
Instantly the words came rushing into his head--"Abracadabra, tumtum ti!" Was that it? Ah! yes--for the cloak began to turn slowly. Herepeated the charm again, more distinctly and firmly, when it gave agentle dip, like a nod of satisfaction, and immediately started back, asfast as ever, in the direction of the tower.
He reached the skylight, which he found exactly as he had left it, andslipped in, cloak and all, as easily as he had got out. He hadscarcely reached the floor, and was still sitting in the middle of histraveling-cloak,--like a frog on a water-lily leaf, as his godmother hadexpressed it,--when he heard his nurse's voice outside.
"Bless us! what has become of your Royal Highness all this time? Tosit stupidly here at the window till it is quite dark, and leave theskylight open, too. Prince! what can you be thinking of? You are thesilliest boy I ever knew."
"Am I?" said he absently, and never heeding her crossness; for his onlyanxiety was lest she might find out anything.
She would have been a very clever person to have done so. The instantPrince Dolor got off it, the cloak folded itself up into the tiniestpossible parcel, tied all its own knots, and rolled itself of its ownaccord into the farthest and darkest corner of the room. If the nursehad seen it, which she didn't, she would have taken it for a mere bundleof rubbish not worth noticing.
Shutting the skylight with an angry bang, she brought in the supper andlit the candles with her usual unhappy expression of countenance. ButPrince Dolor hardly saw it; he only saw, hid in the corner where nobodyelse would see it, his wonderful traveling-cloak. And though his supperwas not particularly nice, he ate it heartily, scarcely hearing a wordof his nurse's grumbling, which to-night seemed to have taken the placeof her sullen silence.
"Poor woman!" he thought, when he paused a minute to listen and look ather with those quiet, happy eyes, so like his mother's. "Poor woman! shehasn't got a traveling-cloak!"
And when he was left alone at last, and crept into his little bed, wherehe lay awake a good while, watching what he called his "sky-garden," allplanted with stars, like flowers, his chief thought was--"I must be upvery early to-morrow morning, and get my lessons done, and then I'll gotraveling all over the world on my beautiful cloak."
So next day he opened his eyes with the sun, and went with
a good heartto his lessons. They had hitherto been the chief amusement of his dulllife; now, I am afraid, he found them also a little dull. But he triedto be good,--I don't say Prince Dolor always was good, but he generallytried to be,--and when his mind went wandering after the dark, dustycorner where lay his precious treasure, he resolutely called it backagain.
"For," he said, "how ashamed my godmother would be of me if I grew up astupid boy!"
But the instant lessons were done, and he was alone in the empty room,he crept across the floor, undid the shabby little bundle, his fingerstrembling with eagerness, climbed on the chair, and thence to the table,so as to unbar the skylight,--he forgot nothing now,--said his magiccharm, and was away out of the window, as children say, "in a fewminutes less than no time."
Nobody missed him. He was accustomed to sit so quietly always thathis nurse, though only in the next room, perceived no difference. Andbesides, she might have gone in and out a dozen times, and it would havebeen just the same; she never could have found out his absence.
For what do you think the clever godmother did? She took a quantity ofmoonshine, or some equally convenient material, and made an image, whichshe set on the window-sill reading, or by the table drawing, where itlooked so like Prince Dolor that any common observer would never haveguessed the deception; and even the boy would have been puzzled to knowwhich was the image and which was himself.
And all this while the happy little fellow was away, floating in the airon his magic cloak, and seeing all sorts of wonderful things--or theyseemed wonderful to him, who had hitherto seen nothing at all.
First, there were the flowers that grew on the plain, which, wheneverthe cloak came near enough, he strained his eyes to look at; they werevery tiny, but very beautiful--white saxifrage, and yellow lotus, andground-thistles, purple and bright, with many others the names of whichI do not know. No more did Prince Dolor, though he tried to find themout by recalling any pictures he had seen of them. But he was too faroff; and though it was pleasant enough to admire them as brilliantpatches of color, still he would have liked to examine them all. He was,as a little girl I know once said of a playfellow, "a very examiningboy."
"I wonder," he thought, "whether I could see better through a pair ofglasses like those my nurse reads with, and takes such care of. How Iwould take care of them, too, if I only had a pair!"
Immediately he felt something queer and hard fixing itself to the bridgeof his nose. It was a pair of the prettiest gold spectacles ever seen;and looking downward, he found that, though ever so high above theground, he could see every minute blade of grass, every tiny bud andflower--nay, even the insects that walked over them.
"Thank you, thank you!" he cried, in a gush of gratitude--to anybody oreverybody, but especially to his dear godmother, who he felt sure hadgiven him this new present. He amused himself with it for ever so long,with his chin pressed on the rim of the cloak, gazing down upon thegrass, every square foot of which was a mine of wonders.
Then, just to rest his eyes, he turned them up to the sky--the blue,bright, empty sky, which he had looked at so often and seen nothing.
Now surely there was something. A long, black, wavy line, moving onin the distance, not by chance, as the clouds move apparently, butdeliberately, as if it were alive. He might have seen it before--healmost thought he had; but then he could not tell what it was. Lookingat it through his spectacles, he discovered that it really was alive;being a long string of birds, flying one after the other, their wingsmoving steadily and their heads pointed in one direction, as steadily asif each were a little ship, guided invisibly by an unerring helm.
"They must be the passage-birds flying seaward!" cried the boy, who hadread a little about them, and had a great talent for putting two andtwo together and finding out all he could. "Oh, how I should like to seethem quite close, and to know where they come from and whither they aregoing! How I wish I knew everything in all the world!"
A silly speech for even an "examining" little boy to make; because, aswe grow older, the more we know the more we find out there is to know.And Prince Dolor blushed when he had said it, and hoped nobody had heardhim.
Apparently somebody had, however; for the cloak gave a sudden boundforward, and presently he found himself high in the air, in the verymiddle of that band of aerial travelers, who had mo magic cloak totravel on--nothing except their wings. Yet there they were, making theirfearless way through the sky.
Prince Dolor looked at them as one after the other they glided past him;and they looked at him--those pretty swallows, with their changingnecks and bright eyes--as if wondering to meet in mid-air such anextraordinary sort of bird.
"Oh, I wish I were going with you, you lovely creatures! I'm getting sotired of this dull plain, and the dreary and lonely tower. I do so wantto see the world! Pretty swallows, dear swallows! tell me what it lookslike--the beautiful, wonderful world!"
But the swallows flew past him--steadily, slowly pursuing their courseas if inside each little head had been a mariner's compass, to guidethem safe over land and sea, direct to the place where they wished togo.
The boy looked after them with envy. For a long time he followed withhis eyes the faint, wavy black line as it floated away, sometimeschanging its curves a little, but never deviating from its settledcourse, till it vanished entirely out of sight.
Then he settled himself down in the center of the cloak, feeling quitesad and lonely.
"I think I'll go home," said he, and repeated his "Abracadabra, tum tumti!" with a rather heavy heart. The more he had, the more he wanted;and it is not always one can have everything one wants--at least, at theexact minute one craves for it; not even though one is a prince, and hasa powerful and beneficent godmother.
He did not like to vex her by calling for her and telling her howunhappy he was, in spite of all her goodness; so he just kept histrouble to himself, went back to his lonely tower, and spent three daysin silent melancholy, without even attempting another journey on histraveling-cloak.